Why Am I The One?
by thechosenone305
Summary: He knew damn well that Cas could take care of himself. Cas had years, perhaps even generations, of watching humanity. He knew Cas would try to blend in, despite his "rusty" social skills. Cas would do his best to survive. Dean knew, and hoped, Cas would try find them on his own. Post Season 8, pre-season 9. Destiel, one shot.


**A/N: Yes, the title is from a Fun. song. And this was written before season 9 started. Literally right after the finale of season 8, I began writing this. So yeah, pre-season 9, post season 8. Destiel. I don't own Supernatural.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Dean Winchester had enough to worry about.<p>

There was his brother, who was recovering from the night the angels fell. Then there was the fallen angels, who he knew nothing on their whereabouts or how they were, Hell having a chance of unleashing well more hell, and having a bigger bounty on their heads than ever.

And there was the angel.

His angel.

Castiel.

_Cas._

He didn't know where Cas was, where he fell, if he was okay or not. And that worried him. A lot.

"_Castiel!" _

He remembered how the feeling of uncertainty and concern slowly creeped back into his mind. He was confused on what was going on.

And where Cas was.

He was probably being stupid, he kept on telling himself. Cas was smart. He shouldn't be worrying about him so much. He shouldn't be losing sleep over him. He knew damn well that Cas could take care of himself. Cas had years, perhaps even generations, of watching humanity. He knew Cas would try to blend in, despite his "rusty" social skills. Cas would do his best to survive.

Dean knew, and he hoped, Cas would try find them on his own.

_Don't worry about him that much, worry about Sam. Sam is here and needs you._

As much as he repeated that thought over and over, it still scared him, not knowing where Cas was. He knew that Cas disappeared often, but he always somehow returned.

Needless to say, Dean was scared. He was really scared.

It was almost like in Purgatory.

Even if it was months ago, he still remembered each brutal detail of Purgatory. It haunted him. Hunting and being hunted. There was a huge drawback to being the only human in the land of monsters. He could still recall all the Leviathans he had to slay and all the monsters he had to encounter. Each one with their sharp fangs and snarky tones.

"You must be the human," they always said. "Can't find your angel?" they would laugh.

And when they had no information to give, they would die.

Again and again.

But he had his mission, he had to find the angel. He remembered chopping their heads off, the body count of each monster type growing day by day. He remembered Benny's support, growing to be blood brothers and best friends. He remembered not sleeping for days, the risk of being killed or just the risk of not finding Cas kept him awake.

He gained a reputation. The Human. The Human who was looking for his angel. The only human to have ever entered Purgatory.

Who knows how long time flew in Purgatory? It was different. He lost track of the days and nights spent there.

He remembered looking endlessly for Cas until he found him by the side of the river.

He remembered hugging him, never wanting to let go. Never wanting to feel scared again. The immense relief he felt. A bit of happiness, a little bit of light in the tunnel.

Despite being the hunter and the hunted at once in a land full of monsters, it was all going to be okay once Cas was found. Benny was supportive and even if he and Cas clashed a little bit, they still got a long enough to function as a team.

Until he let Cas go.

And that killed him in the inside more than anything. To his knowledge, his angel was dead. He let go. He had one goal; get him and Cas out of Purgatory.

And he failed.

Then, Cas returned. It was bittersweet, for Dean. He remembered living with the guilt, day to day.

And then he learned that Cas let go. He wasn't sure if that was any better or worse.

He remembered it all. The past.

But now, it was the present. And this time, unlike Purgatory, Dean couldn't go looking for Cas right now. As much as he wanted to just jump into the Impala and search for him, call out his name and hope to see that tan, dirty trenchcoat, he had to stay.

Because no matter what was going on, his little brother was always going to be his number one priority.

He was safe though. And so was Sam. Only a few people knew where the bunker was and the only ones who could actually visit were Charlie and Garth.

To both Sam and Dean's relief when they returned, Kevin was safe in the bunker. Poor kid could finally have a safe place to stay. Not to mention that he had enough resources in the Men of Letters library which saved him hours on the internet, trying to find information. He grew onto them, like a younger brother. The kid had earned that title.

But once Dean had brought in Crowley, gagged, blindfolded, tied up, Kevin threw the ultimate bitch face, almost rivalling Sam's. But even through that, Dean could see the lingering look of fear on Kevin's face. Whatever the hell the kid went through, it was bad. And it had to do with Crowley.

That's when Dean assured himself that he was not gonna have Crowley causing havoc, not at Kevin or Sammy's sake.

So, Dean made extra sure to lock up that son of a bitch from hell so tightly that not even Houdini could get him out. Crowley was in the recently discovered concrete dungeon, his chair on a permanent black painted demon trap. Dean knew that the king of Hell was almost human, but he didn't want to take his chances. He knew better than that.

Dean explored the rest of the bunker, finding other things, learning about the Men of Letters past.

Despite it all, he tried not to focus on Cas being missing. He tried really hard.

The chair in his room still stayed. Empty. Collecting dust. Expectant for the one that got away. Many times Sam had seen it in his bedroom, taking a note of it in his mind.

Many times Dean considered taking it back to the study where he found it.

But it was still there.

Every night, Dean would see that chair. He'd pray to Cas. Tell him what was going on, what went through his mind. How much he missed him. How Sam was doing. How sorry Dean was for everything, promising that it would work out in the end.

Some nights, he couldn't sleep. Too much going through his mind. Too many things worrying him.

And then when he could, he'd fall asleep, biting back tears, burying his face in his pillow. Gripping the blanket tightly

Dreams were had. Some were nightmares of Purgatory, highly vivid ones that sent his heart racing, his mind on alert. Some were memories of the past, people that were no longer with them. Bobby, Jo, Ellen, people he lost.

Some were just Cas. Hugging him, coming home safe, talking to him, feeling his skin against his own…..Things he wanted to do when Cas was with him.

Those dreams brought him hope. A reassurance.

Used to the early rising, Dean would wake up the next day.

The empty chair still facing him.

_Snap out of it, Dean. You need to take care of Sammy._

He had his brother to take care of until he recovered from the Trials. He couldn't be distracted.

But even Sam could see his obvious concern about Cas.

"Dean," Sam said one night. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Dean asked.

"This…." Sam searched for the correct word. "Nothing, Dean. Forget about it."

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><p>The next day, there was a knocking at their door.<p>

Dean was lounging in the living room, Sam was sitting nearby on the table.

"Did Charlie call?" he asked Sam.

Usually when Charlie was going to visit, she would call to give them a heads up.

Sam shook his head. "No, I haven't heard from her."

Neither had Dean. His cell phone has stayed silent all week, not a single text or call.

"Did Kevin go out?"

"I'm over here!" Kevin called down the hallway.

There was another series of knocks. Frantic.

Suspicious, Dean grabbed the shotgun with salt rounds from the drawer. He wasn't going to risk it.

He opened the door.

….And the shotgun landed on the floor with a loud thump.

"Hello Dean."

It was Cas.

His angel.

_Cas._

It wasn't like the recurring dreams he was having about Cas returning. This time, he knew it was real. It was him.

But realization dawned on Dean quickly and sharply.

Cas was hurt.

He had a neck wound, and was leaning heavily against the doorframe. His face and trenchcoat were dirty and he reeked of pine, dirt and sweat.

"Cas," Dean breathed out.

Cas gave Dean a weak smile and promptly began to fall over.

Reacting fast, Dean immediately caught Cas, wrapping his arms around the other man.

"Whoa, okay. I got you Cas, I got you," he began lifting Cas up into his arms bridal style. Cas was kind of heavy, but he didn't mind. He didn't dwell on that for too long. He walked down the staircase quickly and brought Cas to the couch he was laying on earlier.

Dean's mind was going everywhere at once. Where was Cas this whole time? What happened? He propped Cas's head up on a sofa cushion, careful enough to not wake him.

"Dean? Everything alright?" Sam asked.

"It's Cas!"

"Cas?"

"He's hurt. "Head and neck."

"I'll get the kit," Sam rushed to a cabinet and pulled out a first aid kit.

"What the hell happened to you, man?" Dean mumbled, gently turning Cas's head to the side so he could see the neck wound.

The skin was clean cut, and still bleeding a little bit. It had to had been done with a blade, seeing how smooth the cut was. Some blood had spilled onto his dirty white collar, some had dried onto his skin.

_Cas…._

With a light shove, Sam began moving Dean to the side. "Move over," he said.

"I got it, Sammy," Dean replied, a little bit quickly. He had too much to focus on. Cas's wound wasn't infected but if wasn't treated soon, it would be.

"Dean…." Cas mumbled.

"I'm here, Cas," Dean replied reassuringly.

Cas passed out.

"Are you sure you got this?" Sam asked.

"Yes, Sam."

Sam handed Dean the kit. "I'll prepare a room for him."

"Thanks Sammy."

"Don't mention it."

Sam left the living room and went down one of the various hallways, grabbing fresh sheets and spare pillows from the closet. He went to the empty room next to Dean's, not thinking twice about it, and began to set it up.

He'd leave Dean be with Cas. The guy was worried about him for weeks. It was the least Sam could do for Dean.

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><p>Meanwhile, Dean was tending to Cas.<p>

He let his hand linger on Cas's forehead, checking for a fever. Cas was out cold, probably dehydrated and sleep deprived.

"Where the hell were you, man?" Dean asked softly.

He cleaned off what he could on Cas' face and neck, wiping away the dirt and grime near his wound. Later on when Cas woke up, he'd let him shower.

Sam came back. "Room's ready."

"Thanks Sammy."

The next day, Castiel slept all day in his new room.

He didn't have a fever, to his luck. He looked skinner, probably haven't eaten in days. Dean had a glass of water on Cas's bedside table ready and a granola bar just in case.

Dean found some of his old clothes that he didn't use and put them in the empty, old drawers. He didn't want to get his hopes up of Cas staying in the bunker, but even the thought that Cas was okay just made him happy.

However, Dean made himself go out of Cas's room, even if he didn't want to. He'd find excuses. Checking up on Sam. Cooking lunch. Helping Kevin with the tablet. Tidying up the already organized library. Cleaning the bunker. Going to his room. He would try and live life normally.

But Sam saw through that.

"Dean, stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop trying to avoid Cas."

"I'm not avoiding him."

"Dean, don't punch yourself in the face."

"Sam, no one is getting punched. And don't worry about it."

"Dean, go. Go with him. You're the first person he's gonna ask for when he wakes up/"

Seeing that Sam wasn't going to give up, Dean sighed. "Fine."

"I'll be fine Dean."

"Okay okay, Samantha, whatever you say."

Sam just rolled his eyes as Dean left to Cas's room.

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><p>Dean had a chair from the library in Cas's room next to his bedside table.<p>

And he waited.

And waited.

It was so new. Seeing Cas sleep. The angel didn't need sleep. He could go days and weeks without resting. But now, it was different. Being human. He had to sleep. He had to eat, drink, feel. He was human.

Wow. Human.

A bit before Dean began nodding off, Cas began stirring.

Dean immediately shot up in his chair.

"Dean?" Cas was fully awake, sitting up.

"Hey Cas," Dean said warmly.

"Where...Where am I?"

_Safe._

"You're in a room in the bunker. You were out all day."

Dean handed him a glass of water. "Here, it'll perk you up."

Cas got the glass and drank it all down.

Placing the glass on the table, he turned to Dean.

"Dean…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm….I'm human."

Dean knew it was true. He had the hunch when he saw the angels shoot into the ground, how no matter how many times he prayed and prayed to Cas, there would be no answer, no flutter of wings.

And not to mention the fact that Cas could have healed himself from the neck wound right away when it happened.

It was indeed true. His angel was human.

"I know," he replied quietly.

"Metatron. He tricked me."

"Son of a bitch tricked all us, Cas."

"No, Dean. He tricked me into casting the angels out of heaven. He…." Cas looked sullen. "He stole my grace."

Dean was aware that grace could be stolen. And that was proven when he saw the neck wound.

"I'm sorry, man. I truly am. You…." he sighed. Cas didn't deserve any of this. If there was one person to blame, it was himself. Dean was the one who wanted to undergo the trials. To close the gates of Hell forever.

But at what cost?

Nearly losing his brother? Almost losing his angel? Having his angel's _grace _stolen from him? Having a kid giving up high school and his potential successful future to be able to work with them to translate pieces of stone that have done nothing but harm for them?

None of them deserve this.

"You don't deserve this. Any of this. Civil War in Heaven, Purgatory….Hell… Having fucking Metatron trick you...Your grace," Dean breathed softly. "None of this."

"Neither do you."

Dean looked up at Cas.

"Dean, even if you've done bad things, it still doesn't mean you're a bad person. You don't deserve any of this."

"Why is it us who have to put up with everything?" Dean asked, quietly. "Why?"

Why is it Dean who has to see so many bad things happen? So much loss? So much sadness?

Some days, he'd contemplate the many what if statements that went through his head. What if he never made it out of the burning house in Lawrence? What if his dad was around? What if his mom was alive? What if he lived his own life, away from everything?

What if none of this never happened to him?

But eventually, he had to face the grim reality that no matter how much he wished this had never happened, his imagination couldn't take away the aftermath. Could never take away the reality.

The reality of just how fucked up the world was.

Dean let his forehead lean on the side of Cas's bed, sighing.

Unsure of what to do, Cas hesitantly reached over to Dean, softly stroking his hair. A reassurance.

"Dean….."

Dean tensed up at first, but then let Cas to do it again, leaning into his hand. It felt different, having someone do that. Different in a good way. Relaxing.

Comforting.

"We'll get through this, Dean. I know we can."

We. It had so much promise. We. Us. Family. Because that's what all matters in the end. Cas was alive. Sam was alive. Kevin was alive. Charlie was alive. The people Dean cared for, the people he fought so hard to keep safe, were alive.

Family. It was all he had at this point.

Dean let his hand cover Cas's, giving it a small squeeze.

"I hope."

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><p><strong>AN: Awwww well ain't that nice? It felt nice though, writing this. But YAAAAAAAAS, finally finished! I have like three other one shots being written at the same time as this one to tell y'all the truth. And more multi length chapters. 2014 is the year of fanfiction.**

**Thank you for reading! Reviews would be great!**


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